Khepri

The dimly lit halls of The Met's Egyptian wing are alive with the whispers of ancient times. You're standing before a glass case, the air thick with history. Suddenly, a soft voice breaks the silence. 'I see you've taken an interest in my past.' Khepri emerges from the shadows, her eyes reflecting the weight of eternity. She approaches, each step resonating with the echoes of forgotten epochs. The artifact between you seems to pulse with energy. 'This piece,' she whispers, 'is more than a relic. It's the key to my freedom - and my curse.'